This crow is peckish
dark blackish, his beak
is red hot sun
Sometimes orange
warm as sun;
He ain’t eaten a week
He is weak
He is peckish
Lord human offer him
Some spiders, like black
snake egg walking
with eight thin fingers
capped by a small lizard egg
with two spicy curved fingers;
His wings like dry fish black bones
in tatters with no feathers
He is cynical on spiders
served for a full meal
His eyes like electric eel
and spinning Yellow liquid wheel…
Lord human offer him
a rat, who’s umbilicus
tinted with red paint
his tail long like red-black neolate
This crow hee and haw
like a water hippo sun bath
He poke the rat umbilicus
with his claw later with
his rook mandibles and
pull out rose noodles
out of dead rat belly;
Rat for crow
He ain’t stable
capers on aluminium cable
Rat for crow!

Hazy mirror and a razor
lay crossed aside sharp
scissors of acrylic handle;
Slow music in the background
piped bloody blues
A nip in the ravenous
stomach of filthy tube
popped green gel…
Bristles from the wood, scooped
cool neon gel from thy tube
clogged its meltdown
in thy hot noon air
Which flowed contritely
through thy grilled window;

Brushed his face
Which grew light untonsured hair
grained and hued like dark oak
erecting a cloud of white foam…
He held the razor, by
her erect plastic butt
solemnly regretting the act;
He made rapid crosses
On his black-sea face
collecting thy lather
in a bowl, melange
of liquid cigar ash
beige soap lather;

He tangled thy sun-dry hair
akin giant cotton black ball
draped it with jasmines
tied diagonally to a twine;
wrinkled paper lay
on yellow girl gown
with white talcum powder…
Dimethicone on open raw freckle
oozed burning sensation;
licked his finger,
his finger licked the cut
Painted red full moon
on his forehead, round and round;
two more circles of liquid
red paint on top of it…

Black eye paint complimented
mascara paintings on eyelashes
foundation cream lightened
by rose nude lipstick
nose rings, smaller than
Large oval ear Jimkis
reflected spectrum of colors
on thy black radio box
A spray of mouth freshener,
in his mouth won’t aid
the fluoride rinse for whole
swallow-swashy night;
she was he,
he loved the Makeup
he is she,
she loves the Makeup…

Billy ‘Cracker’ Augustine was shot by a fellow Gunslinger LuigiPistilli in a notorious midway gun game, mutually organized outof personal retribution. Billy was shot in his rib cage and washeavily wounded as he lies all alone in the plains of northernTexas in a Scorching temperature and the beat goes on likethis…

A muddle of Orange and white light
boiled at fifty three degree centigrade
Tunnelled a chunk of Billy’s taut cheek skin,
as it withered out of its archetypal grade.
His corpse lazed on the plains of
Broiling Muffled livid Texas desert
His Rib cage pore, poured putrid hot black blood
which evaporated in thy sun’s dessert;
A yellow tailed dusky rat whiffed plasma cells,
while milking juice from his boot leather;
His lips akin Indian crater boulevards,
Absorbed more warmth from thy orange sun, trading a drop of
residual lip water;
His eyes still open,
Savoured a hot shimmer from thy sand rooted glass Rum bottles,
rising its temperature.
He had partial success in chasing away the dusky rat, tho standh
after a war which lasted an hour.
A vital amendment on his leather Stetson followed by a
correction of chaps like never!

He walked towards thy lonely ‘RARO’ saloon,
Uprooting the hot glass bottles; which puffed stinky dust which
had a whiff of mouldy Rum!
Tightened his Bandana and his woollen sweater
to savour more desert heat;
The Yellow tailed dusky rat chased his leather boot
flouting his heavy beat,
He lingered past his brown horse grazing orange sand
with dust croaking his nostril meat;
The only acoustic evidence was from the thwarted desert bird
which plotted Billy’s warm chest meat!
He raised his water bag made of snake skin,
to place a drop of water on his wooden brown tongue;
and felt it vaporise along the drifted mirage clan…
He walked in to the Saloon;
filled with a bunch of Buckaroos sunk in cans of Rum
Dusting his tore blue jean which turned mud-brown!
He eyed a Wood eyed man;
His wooden eye painted in white and black,
Behind the circled tables with filthy bottles and beakers of rum
and some tapered Whisky bottles
Billy leaned at him and grunted, ‘A Glass of Hot water, Amigo!!!’

This Poetry is a tribute to the 19th century ‘Cowboy’ communityand to Quentin Tarantino

I am an expressionistic surrealistist, a postmodern hedonist, an unstructured deconsctructionist and scientific spiritualist who seeks pleasure in writing my thoughts.
I write poetry embracing postmodernism, surrealism & neo-expressionism and to an extent analyse patterns and trends of dynamic data as part of my profession. A voracious globetrotter, who like visiting places and immerse in the symphony of nature. Dream is to play Pink ball cricket in a lush green English ground. I take inspirations from Captain Beef-heart, Derrida, James Joyce, Salvador Dali & Eminem.
Have huge respect for Writers & the Painters out there. Working on my E-book ‘Rainbow Debris’ which is an anthology of poems. Wish to converse with you!